Seldom What They Seem
by GlassRose1937
Summary: Sleeping Beauty retold from the title's character POV, with some original scenes added out of my imagination.


**Author's Note:**_ Hello everyone! First of all, I want to thank you for taking the time and checking this story. Second, this is my second story, so I'm not experienced, but I'm pleased with the result, or I wouldn't have published this. Third, English is not my first-language, but I think my grammar is fine, if you spot any mistakes tell me._

**About the Story: **_Sleeping Beauty is one of my favorite Disney movies, and I wanted to work with it. So, I have set myself the task of retelling the story from Aurora's (Briar Rose) point of view, since even thought she is the title-character, the fairies seems the real protagonists of the story. However, this is not told in first-person, but in third-person, because I prefer writing that way._

_Without further ado, I'll let you enjoy (perhaps?) the story._

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**Seldom What They Seem**

**Chapter One**

Briar Rose laughed as her prince spun her around. Then he playfully pulled her to the ground. She fell atop him, her hands in his broad chest. Her laughter died as her thoughts became lost in those handsome features. A strong chin, a long neck and a defined body.

His hair was a honeyed brown, but his eyes were a chocolate-brown. But the best thing were the lips. They looked so.. kissable.

"I love you,"she whispered.

He ran a gentle hand over the side of her face, framed by a mane of long golden curls.

"I love you too, my sweet princess," he told her, their eyes, brown and violet, locked in each other's.

Briar Rose's cheeks flushed a shade of pink. She wasn't a princess, she had told him that many times, but he insisted in calling her that.

"_You're far more gentle, kind and intelligent than any princess I've ever met_," he would always tell her, cupping her face. "_And far more beautiful, too_."

Entranced by each other, the two lovers leaned forward, their needy lips barely brushing. Their eyelashes fluttered until their eyes closed, and their hearts beat so loudly they could hear each other's heartbeat.

Then...

Briar Rose's violet irises shot open. Astonished, she took in her surroundings: a wooden ceiling, some fairytale books lined in a shelf and a blue blanket covering her from waist-down.

Rose groaned, turning in her bed. It had been only a dream. Always only a dream. _But it seemed so real, and they were so close..._

Sighing melancholic, Rose sat up in the bed, throwing the blanket away. _There is no use in crying over split milk_, Aunt Flora would always say. _And after all_, she thought with a smug smile, _today is my birthday_.

Singing the tune of the melody of her dreams, she twirled to the door. A quick glance at the vanity reminded her of how she was dressed: her golden hair was woven in a braid over her right shoulder, and her petite frame easily fit in the green nightgown with lace trimming she was wearing.

She walked down the stairs with grace, and as soon as her bare feet touched the wooden floor, a delicious smell captivated her senses.

Rose looked at the kitchen's side of the lower floor. Aunt Flora and Aunt Fauna were setting the table with cutlery. Aunt Merryweather, perched in a stool, mixed a great pot of something with a wooden spoon.

"Good morning, my three dears," Rose greeted them merrily.

The three women looked up from their work and greeted her unenthusiastically, something not usual of them.

_Ah, playing the old game of pretending they forgot my birthday, are we?_, thought Rose, smirking.

"And what is my Aunt Merryweather cooking that is smelling so delicious?" she asked, walking over to Merryweather.

"Porridge," replied the shortest of the aunts. She then served four bowls of porridge, one for each of them.

Rose chatted happily with her aunts, like they did every morning. They talked about the flowers, the animals, that time Rose took care of a bird with a broken wing and made plans of having a picnic in the woods that Saturday.

When the meal was over, her aunts occupied themselves in washing the dishes, while Rose went upstairs. Singing to herself, she undid her braid and shook her flowing curls. Twirling to one side of the room, she slipped out of her nightgown and choose an outfit out of the chest where she kept her clothes.

The one she choose was one of simple style and neutral colors. It had a grey top with sleeves that reached her elbows and a darker grey, pleated skirt that reached her mid-calf. She wore her second pair of petticoats along with it, and then laced a black corset tightly over the top. The last thing she did was choose a black headband to keep her hair back.

"_Now I have to do my chores_", she thought, neither annoyed or excited by the thought. She knew it was something she had to do, or Aunt Flora would be upset with her. The last thing Rose desired was to make her aunts sad. She did everything she could to please them.

"_But one day I'll have to go_", she thought sadly. "_I have the right to live my own life_."

While she thought, she worked, making up her bed and dusting the room.

"_But Rose_," said a tiny voice in her head, "_you can't leave your poor old aunts after everything they did for you_!"

"_I know they mean well_," she argued, "_but they are too overprotective sometimes. I can't meet anyone. This life is becoming boring_."

"_You are being a selfish ingrate_!" Cried the voice.

"_No, I'm not_", she contested, her determination slipping with every word the voice said.

"_But what if they become ill, or a stranger sneak into the cottage and..._"

"Stop!" Rose cried. The tiny voice in her head silenced at once and in the room only stood a panting Briar Rose, her chest heaving within the corset and a wiping rag clutched in her hand. Seating in the bed, Rose held her aching head. She would never be able to leave her aunts. She worried too much about them.

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**End Note: **_I hope you enjoyed your reading. Getting inside Aurora's mind was difficult, since she is a very vague character (though she __**does **__have a lot of personality). But that is good too, because it gives the opportunity to build layers and layers over her character._

_If you have the time, leave a review telling me what you think, please. Criticism is welcome, but so is politeness. _


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